134 Backseat

"Give me your phone," the man demanded.

She held her phone out to him carefully, not making any sudden moves. It certainly wasn't worth getting hurt over a phone.

He reached forward and took the phone, throwing it over onto the passenger seat. "Hands on the wheel, eyes forward," he ordered.

Andrea shakily complied. This didn't feel like a robbery. She'd have been happier if he'd ordered her out so he could steal the car. If it weren't for the gun trained so steadily on her, she'd have been tempted to make a break for it. But she felt frozen, heart pounding in her chest, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

She tried to think who the man might be from the brief moment she'd been able to see him. Her eyes had been so occupied with the gun. Even as she looked away, it was hard to think about anything else, but…

Stay in the store, Kyle…

"Who are you?" the man demanded.

"Andrea Mason," she said, her voice hoarse in her throat.